


No Time to Celebrate

by doctor_badass



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Future, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-21
Updated: 2013-10-21
Packaged: 2017-12-30 01:02:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1012168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doctor_badass/pseuds/doctor_badass
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kirk gets a bit too enthusiastic about some new developments in his personal life</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Time to Celebrate

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I am in no way an expert on the goings-on of the U.S.S Enterprise, so feel free to correct any factual errors you may see in this.

“Positions ready?”

 

“Yes, sir. Engines are warming up as we speak.”

 

“Chekov? You on?”

 

“Yes, keptin!”

 

“You worked in the med bay once, right?”

 

“Well, yes, but I was unconscious and-”

 

“Great. Get yourself one of those blue shirts, we need you down there.”

 

James Tiberius Kirk grinned as he continued walking down the hall, snapping his com closed to silence the sound of Chekov’s muffled sobbing. God, he was a great captain.

 

“Kirk!” called someone from behind him, approaching quickly.

 

He turned, still grinning. “Bones! How ya been?”

 

“Not as dandy as you, it seems. Are you drunk?”

 

“Only a very small amount of that,” he demonstrated with his fingers, staring at the space between them for longer than necessary.

 

“Not that I’m giving my approval about this, but what are you celebrating?”

 

Kirk simply smiled again. It was true; he had only had a few shots after changing into his standard Starfleet captain’s uniform. But he was just too goddamn happy to care about the shitton of legal issues he would have to deal with if he was cited for intoxication while on duty. He had a very good reason to celebrate. A reason who should be waiting for him on the Enterprise.

 

So he had the shots, he boarded the shuttle to the hanger, he showed his ID, he got on his ship, and here he was. He was really good at being drunk.

           

“Why don’t you head on over to the Med Bay? I’ve got something to show you.”

           

Wow, Bones is a really good friend, Kirk thought, somewhat sleepily.

           

It seemed like only a few staggering steps before he was facing a miserable, blue-shirted Chekov in the Med Bay. “Hello, keptin,” he nodded somewhat stiffly.

 

Kirk squinted at him. “Why are you blue?” Chekov merely choked back a sob in response.

        

Bones clapped the engineer on the shoulder, shaking it reassuringly and whispering, “You’ll be relieved as soon as we give him the injection.”

 

“Are you two telling secrets without me?” Kirk slurred, tipping dangerously towards them.

 

“Yep,” Bones said, matter-of-factly, filling a syringe. “Chekov, you get to hold him down.”

 

There was barely time for a heroic escape before Chekov had him down on the table, gripping his arms rather meekly. “BEAM ME OUT, SCOTTY!” Kirk was screaming, and then Bones had the needle in his arm and he was gasping for breath as the fluid filled his system like an electric shock.

           

“Improvement? There’d better be, I just pumped caffeine straight into your system,” Bones was saying, cleaning off the syringe now. “A bit unnecessary, but this mission is five years long, and we’re not starting it off with you making a fool of yourself.”

           

Shaking his head to clear it, Kirk grimaced at Chekov. “Get back on the bridge, officer. And take off that damn blue shirt.”

 

Almost cheering in relief, Chekov ran out of the room, stripping off the shirt as he went.

 

“Was I that bad?”

 

“Yes. You made him cry.”

 

“Dammit.”

 

“You’re wanted on the bridge. Get outta here.”

 

As Kirk turned to go, Bones offered one final piece of advice. “Kirk?”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Just remember, I’m a doctor, not a rehab specialist.”

 

“Will do, Bones.”

 

Back on the bridge, however, his issues, it seemed, weren’t over. Chekov was looking happier than ever, but Uhura stormed over to him, up in his face and snarling before he even had the chance to stammer a hello.

 

“ _WHERE. IS. SPOCK.”_ she hissed, and if she were a cat her spine would have been arched in fury. “He is _never_ late. For anything. Ever.”

 

Backing slowly around her, hands raised in surrender, palms facing out in a sign of defeat, Kirk shrugged, pulling off a half-apologetic smile. “How would I know?”

 

“Don't think I haven’t heard the rumors!” she practically screeched as he dashed for the safety of Sulu. 

 

“Spock?” the helmsman said, seated at the console and not looking up.

 

 _Sigh._ Kirk was probably going to get this a lot today.

 

“Gone, obviously.”

 

“Yes, I can see that, but where-”

 

“KIRK!”

 

“Oh, christ.”

 

The entirety of the bridge turned to gape as Spock stumbled in through the elevator, cheeks flushed green and eyes bright. His usually impeccable hair was slightly ruffled. Kirk thought it was adorable.

 

“Who gave you alcohol?” he asked, leaning against the console.

 

“Tha’s one sec’rt em nev’r sharin’” Spock slurred, falling to his knees and laughing hysterically.

 

The bridge was dead silent. This was the first time anyone had seen him smile for more than three seconds. Or laugh. It was mesmerizing.

 

“Rememb’r lass night, when you tol’ me ‘bout the good ‘ol days?” he giggled, head on the ground.

 

“Yep, sure do. Like it was yesterday,” Kirk was almost crying with laughter.

 

“Well, I wanna impr’ss ya, so h’re I am! We’ll have th’ bes’ times in th’ galaxy.”

 

“Permission to take him to the Med Bay, sir?” Uhura huffed, attempting to pull the Vulcan up.

 

“Nah, leave him,” Kirk said, as he settled into his chair. “He’s damn hot when he’s drunk.”


End file.
